


Framed

by Ariyaquila



Series: Backstory Ideas? [1]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Action, Angst, Concept Backstory, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, i guess lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariyaquila/pseuds/Ariyaquila
Summary: Xisuma was framed for destroying a world, but no one believed him.He had to escape before he got killed.
Relationships: None
Series: Backstory Ideas? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094528
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Framed

**Author's Note:**

> TW: mentions of blood, mild descriptions and use of weapons with the intent of killing, implied execution, and implied world destruction.  
> Any other TWs I missed, please let me know ^-^

If there was one perk of always wearing a helmet, it was that no one could grab Xisuma by his hair and drag him to wherever they pleased. He could hide behind the reflective surface of the visor. His expressions could be difficult to read, and pieced with the odd choice of armor, shrouded his very existence in mystery

Of course it was nowhere to be seen, leaving his pained and pathetic face for all to see.

Xisuma bowed his head low, shoulders heaving his shaky breaths. The crowd chuckled darkly among themselves; he couldn’t truly hide his face behind his curtain of hair, grown out due to the years of hiding. Everyone had already seen his face. How could they not? The former admin’s wanted posters were all over the place. The pictures were not as flattering as he hoped, but what was he expecting with posters that put a price on his head? Whatever picture they had, meaning the single picture of Xisuma with blood caked on his pale cheeks and a knife in his hand, had to do.

And as if they all wanted him guilty, the blood and weapon only further proved it.

A foot from the crowd stuck out just as he stepped forwards, sending him to the ground with a crash. Even as his elbow slammed against the pavement and his arm scraped on the rough ground, he didn’t react. Recently, Xisuma had found, pain was a common part of his daily life. And his wrist, that just so happened to be tied slightly too tight behind his back, was no exception.

No one helped him up (as expected), forcing Xisuma to push himself up, completely ignoring the pain that briefly flared in his delicate skin. He rolled to his knees and staggered to his feet without the use of his hands. X had the right to be sluggish with all his movements, slowness and weakness flowing straight through his veins was something he couldn't combat, unlike sleep-deprivation or physical restraints.

As he continued walking to his demise, a familiar color of hair made Xisuma falter at a person watching in the crowd. No doubt he recognized who that hair belonged to. For the first time in months, a glimmer of emotion made its way into his eyes.

“... Cleo?” Xisuma’s voice, rough from disuse, cracked towards the person in question. She turned a fierce glare towards him, and all his hope diminished, along with the idea of getting out of his death sentence.

“We trusted you for years, Xisuma,” the zombie with fiery red hair whispered. “Years of trust built, years of memories made… all for what? To use us? To make it seem like you’re the person who wouldn’t destroy an entire world?” By the end, the volume of her voice increased to a violent yell that drew everyone's attention.

Xisuma met her glare with lifeless eyes. “It wasn’t me.”

“All the evidence points to you!” she all but shrieked. The former admin turned away, shoulders slumped with defeat. “You were alone, for goodness sake! That video proves it, I know you saw it!” Cleo was already heavily breathing, but kept on going. “I watched you destroy it with your Admin magic! I saw you, with my own eyes, tear the place apart, and if they hadn’t broken into the world, you would have only left a bedrock wasteland!

"You have the audacity to come back after disappearing for years and ask for forgiveness. How very bold of you, Xisuma, but unfortunately, you aren't getting mine. No evil deserves it."

Xisuma walked away, not giving her the satisfaction of a second glance back. He knew it would be fruitless to argue, especially with the recording of ‘Xisuma’ destroying that unnamed world recently made public.

“I was framed,” Xisuma only said, knowing that of all people, Cleo would have heard it.

And no one except the former Admin and the framer knew it was true.

No one believed him anyways. There was no point in trying to convince them, the entire world was against him.

Only two out of the thirty plus Hermits that have ever participated in Hermitcraft still trusted him, and one left due to suspicions of conspiring with a wanted person. It hurt, knowing he technically betrayed his friends' trust, even though it wasn't his fault. He so desperately wanted to go back and fix it, but with his Admin privileges revoked and slowly killing him, he couldn't even pick his feet up.

The guards escorting him to his death forced him up the stairs, not all too gently. His knees slammed against the first few steps, and they didn't give him a chance to regain his footing. Unceremoniously dragged up to the platform, he gave the first sign of nervousness: a slight tremble of his lips.

The wood leveled out to a large platform, stained a worn red with years of crudely executing criminals. The soles of X's boots became stained by stepping in sticky puddles of blood, reminding him that he wasn't the only bad person who's met their fate by an axe to their neck. As if his thoughts were heard, a foot at the center tapped impatiently, as if eager to spill more blood.

When he was thrown in front of the executioner, Xisuma looked up through his hair, long and white from the years of hiding and revoked Admin privileges. With a certain disliking to the purpose of their job, Xisuma glared as well as he could in his weakened state.

The executioner guffawed at the defiant stare, returning it with a smug grin, sharpening his axe. "Who knew? An  _ Admin _ , abusing his powers. They're supposed to be good people, y'know." He turned to the guards. "I've neva' had ta execute an Admin before. Mostly Hackers, honest to Notch. Bet this 'un wanna be special, aye?"

The guards snickered. The executioner raised the axe without letting him get any words in. Xisuma clenched his eyes shut.

With a last burst of whatever magic or Admin remnant he had left, he teleported himself far away from the execution site.

The moment his feet crunched on coarse dirt, he fell to the ground, unconscious.

He was at anyone’s mercy if they found him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just me playing around with random ideas. In this concept, this would be Evil X's backstory. He would have accidentally time traveled and universe jumped (with someone's help) to some random Hermitcraft season where 'Evil X' didn't exist, thus why he took up that name.
> 
> I was going to do a short book on it but I never continued it. Maybe I'll pick it up soon, idk.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
